


Worse Than Romeo And Juliet

by craple



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied Relationships, Sibling Incest, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craple/pseuds/craple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re going to die, he realizes, and clutches her hand tighter than necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse Than Romeo And Juliet

Rose is annoying. Annoying as fuck and acts like she knows everything, but she doesn’t.

She tells him that he has a feeling for Jade, and he honestly replies that he doesn’t. There’s someone else—isn’t there always someone else?—and she smirks coyly, leaning closer to him and challenges him to tell her. The act itself is supposed to be intimidating, but he finds himself nervous at their sudden close proximity and starts fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Rose doesn’t realize what she has done to him, doesn’t know the effect she has on him, so when she smiles victoriously like she just wins the argument, he stands up and gets out of the room.

His face is flushed as he opens the door. Jade is there, staring at him with bright green eyes, and when he turns away to Rose, she’s smirking at him like she knows something like this would happen. She thinks that Jade is the reason for his flushed face and fidgety fingers, but she’s dead wrong on that. He wants to tell her, scream at her, that it’s her who makes him this way, who turns him into some cliché hopeless-romantic, in love with his own fucking sister, something worse than that Romeo and Juliet’s forbidden love shit.

But he doesn’t do any of that and lets her think she wins, because even _he_ knows that his one-sided love won’t bring any good for both of them.

Rose is tempting. She’s tempting and she’s pushing him over the edge, his patience slips out little by little, while his blood is running down to the place he doesn’t want to think of.

They’re taking a rest in the Derse tower together, as weird and unusual as it sounds. He’s sitting on the couch, his head leans against the comforter and his face is facing the ceiling up above. Rose sits down beside him, several books in her hands. She skims each and every page with careful eyes and flips them gently everytime she’s done, and he doesn’t realize that he’s staring until she turns to look at him with her beautiful amused purple eyes.

“Do you not have anything better to do than staring at my face, dear brother?” she asks him, sweetly and playfully, with that mocking tone of superiority, and he wonders if it runs in their blood, that superiority and inferiority complex. Dave shrugs and turns his attention back to the ceiling above.

“That pretty face of yours doesn’t worth it.” He says, because it’s the truth, but he lets sarcasm dripping down his voice as he speaks. Rose raises her brow—her perfect thin brow—and smiles teasingly at him.

“Has the world gone mad, I wonder? Dave Strider just directly called me pretty.” That smile is still there, and he wants nothing but wipe it off her face. If he denies it, then things will become more complicated than it already is.

He shifts uncomfortably so that he’s facing her, his cheek rests against the comforter, and he pushes his shades up ever so slightly. She’s startled when his bright crimson eyes meet with her dark purple ones, he can tell. She’s trying to hide the fact that she’s uncomfortable with his eyes piercing intensely into hers and he knows it. The knowledge alone brings a smirk that accidentally looks seductive on his face.

“You know you are.” His answer is barely a whisper, but she hears it. Her breath catches, her body goes rigid, and her pale face, mainly the areas around her cheeks, is now colored with soft shades of red.

There’s a pause where her lips parted and he pushes his shades back to its original position. He doesn’t want her to know that he’s been staring at her lips, dark purple and chapped and full, and how bad he wants to taste it. She licks her lips, her pink tongue darts out fascinatingly, stands up and positions herself in front of him. He watches and waits; his heart is pounding against his ribcage almost painfully, and his blood runs southward when she tips his chin upward and leans down until their noses almost bump against each other.

“Why, dear brother, it seems that you’ve caught a cold.” She clicks her tongue and there’s a smirk in her voice when she finishes. “And they say that idiots can’t get sick.”

Rose is ignorant. She thinks that she’s observant and nothing misses her eyes, but she’s so ignorant sometimes that Dave wants nothing but shakes her and screams at her until his throat is sore and she realizes how _wrong_ she has been all along.

It’s a common fact that when Dave Strider and Rose Lalonde meet, argument is the first thing that comes to their mind. Their argument is filled with disturbing jokes and sarcastic remarks, but not so disturbing to the point of being hostile to each other, of course. This time though, it’s different.

Their argument is more intense, more serious, and more dangerous. Dave is angry—really, _really_ angry, and Rose is pissed and angry at him too. They keep arguing for god-knows how long, but before they can really finish or make peace with each other, she knocks him out and leaves. He’s so angry that he’s not sure whether to slap her and beat her out despite the fact that she’s his sister and a woman, or kiss her.

He comes after her later, angry and annoyed, but in the end, they’re helping each other to destroy the Green Sun.

But everything is messed up and there’s a bomb and he’s holding her hand. They’re going to die, he realizes, and clutches her hand tighter than necessary.

“I love you.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and for the first and hopefully not the last time, he kisses her.


End file.
